After spending the first 22 years of my life in essentially one place, all I wanted was to see a little more of the world. So far, so good.

There’s only one problem. I want to do everything. I want to see everything, read everything, be everything. And that’s impossible.

This may surprise a lot of people, but I actually don’t know exactly what I want to do, and I sure as hell don’t know who I want to be. For the first time in my life, I’m starting to realize that’s okay.

Here’s the problem with trying to do everything. It makes your life harder. So unnecessarily harder.

I can’t go five minutes without checking Twitter if I tried. I’m constantly checking e-mails on my iPhone, even though nine times out of ten I just find more spam to delete. Sometimes I’ll swipe through Instagram, tap a couple pictures twice somewhat arbitrarily, then I’ll see what my friends have sent me on Snapchat. Just when I think I’m about to power down and do something you, know, productive, there’s another link that catches my eye.

One more click…one more click…one more click.

Have you ever closed out of Facebook on your laptop and immediately opened it up on your iPhone? Because I have — all the time.

I DON’T WANNA MISS A THINGGGGGGGGGGGGG

Let me quickly explain how I got here: I spent four years in college writing about my passion — sports. I was a creator of content. Looking back on it four years later, it wasn’t always the best content — but it was good enough to launch the career I’d always wanted for myself.

Then somewhere along the way, I stopped being a creator and became a consumer.

Here’s the thing about working in TV. A lot of people work on a show — executive producers, producers, segment producers, associate producers, production assistants, directors — and oh yeah…on-air talent. That’s a lot of people with a lot of ideas, and when you’re trying to fill a half-hour/hour-long show, you’re lucky if you bat .200 on any given day.

I’d probably say 90 percent of the information I consume every day is never put to use. I didn’t have the outlet for it. So it finally hit me — what if I cut back even a fraction of the time I spend looking for something interesting and try and make something myself?

I’ve tried to find ways to let my voice out again. It’s never really worked out the way I’d like. I ignored the single most common piece of advice any professional blogger has for wannabes: don’t worry about making money.

See, I wanted to make a business out of this writing thing. So I tried to find a niche — if anyone knows anything about me, they know it’s college football. There was only one problem — I’m pretty much paid full-time to produce creative and original content for college football. If I wasn’t dedicating 100 percent of the area of my brain marked “college football,” I was not doing my job.

Every time I’ve tried to start writing again, I’ve worried about everything but writing. What should I call the site? Do I need a logo? What should I write about? How many columns should my layout have? Way too much time spent worrying about things that just don’t matter.

I’ve finally decided to take the lid off. My newest project is called A Distraction a Day, and I have to credit Rembert Browne‘s former blog, 500 Days Asunder, for my inspiration. There came a day where Rembert said he’d had enough and dedicated himself to writing a single blog post — no more, no less — for 500 days straight until he finished grad school. I’m no Rembert Browne, but when I read his description for the blog, it motivated me to at least emulate the idea on my own terms.

I have no idea which direction the site will go from here, I just know that I’m not trapping myself any longer. There will be plenty of sports, maybe some music (I have to put those 56,000 minutes I spent on Spotify last year to good use somehow), maybe some TV, maybe even politics. I’ll probably do some videos, hopefully start the podcast I’ve wanted to for years. The only thing stopping me is myself.

So…every day, a new distraction. All I really want is to keep myself from every other distraction. If I can distract you for a few minutes too, great. I’ll try to make it worth your time in the process. I know it will be worth mine.